The Few Who Have Seen

Dear Pain,

       So many call you a burden, an unfortunate circumstance of the human condition. We remember you with swollen eyes, and think of you as a hateful magician. Playing tricks upon our hearts, and casting illusions over unsuspecting minds. Those that have been wronged by you wish for your demise, and those yet affected taking precautions of all kinds, to evade your treacherous wrath, your unavoidable path. As you loom in the distance waiting for the day you can show your cards.

        However, some that have faced you in the hardest of times, have recognized you in the face of a lover, or glimpsed you in the comfort of a friend. For a few have discovered what many have not: that there is no love without your distraught. You, Pain, are the one that brings us closer to one another, and reminds us that we feel. You are the one thing in the world that we can be sure is real. So while the tales of your tricks, and villainy ring true, so do the reasons to fight and to love, both of which things are given by you. You made us who we are, and you'll make us who we'll be, and maybe in the future more will want to see.


                                                                                                                                                                      One of the few...

This poem is about: 
Our world
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